#jelbean

     “ hey, come eat breakfast! ”   she calls out to her youngest down the hall, placing the fried egg on the plate along with the hashbrowns. the plate is set on the table beside some orange juice and an apple- the perfect breakfast to start the day. when she spots her daughter stepping in, she turns to face her,   “ hey kiddo, eat up. we’ve gotta pack afterwards. ”

@jelbean  💜 for a starter !!

Whatever Jughead had expected as he made his way up to the trailer, it wasn’t the lights on.  Instantly on guard, Jughead slung the strap of his bag securely around his hand; maybe it wasn’t the best replacement for a baseball bat (which was currently sitting just inside the trailer door) but it would have to do in a pinch.

He was getting good at improvising.

Moving forward, his steps as quiet as they could be on the icy gravel, Jughead lifted his boot over the stair that always creaked, his back pressed hard to the railing.

It was probably Tall Boy waiting for him.  But he wasn’t going to take any chances-- in Riverdale, that was the sort of stupid that got you killed.

Jughead could feel his heart beating in his throat as he pushed open the door, the repaired hinge protesting audibly.  And before he could lose his nerve, he stepped inside-- this was his damn house, and he wasn’t going to--

Rain fell heavy on the little town of Riverdale, as if nature herself was making an attempt to wash clean the blood that seemed to flow through the streets in the days following the shooting of Mr. Andrews at Pop’s. 

While most of the town was huddled close with family and friends, speaking quietly about the recent events that had plagued them, Jughead immersed himself in the one thing that always served as an escape from reality; movies.  But of course he couldn’t watch something romantic, or humorous to lift his mood; instead he chose something dark. Something scary. Something that fit the thick fog and heavy rain; fit the thunder in the distance. 

Jughead lay quietly in his parents bed, abandoned by his father when he was carted off to jail. Only the light of the old TV lit the small room, barely big enough for a bed and cast eerie shadows down that hall that made Jughead shift uncomfortably as he munched his popcorn. Lights flickered from the power of the growing storm and Jughead could have sworn he heard something outside, freezing him in his place to listen intently for anything to prove he wasn’t just being paranoid...

“If I could find a way to see this straight I’d run away.”

obscenely domestic starter sentences//accepting

@jelbean

    “Who? Me?!” Words left lips dripping with obvious sarcasm despite him shaking his head at his sister with a serious expression adorning his features. “I wouldn’t do that.” Soft laughter fell short as blue-green eyes scanned the seemingly never-ending pile of clean laundry their mother had instructed them to have folded and put away before she returned back to the trailer. It was a mundane task that couldn’t collect the teenagers attention for more than 5 minutes at a time.  

Jughead stepped out onto the front porch of the trailer he shared with his father. It was still strange sight that caught him off guard every day but he didn’t want to think about getting used to it. Where there had once been trailers, were now burned husks. They had been some of the few that didn’t lose their homes but it still wasn’t safe to stay here. He slung his bag over his shoulder and walked down to his bike to head back to Archie’s house when someone caught his attention. Jellybean.